


It starts here

by Sherlocks_the_name



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greaser John, Greaserlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Nerd Sherlock, Sherlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocks_the_name/pseuds/Sherlocks_the_name
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GREASER LOCK<br/>JOHNLOCK<br/>Sherlock has been homeschooled all his life. When his parents decide that sherlock had to go to public school how will he cope. 17 years and soon to be 18, will sherlock be able to fit in? And who is this greaser who won't leave sherlock alone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Expect the unexpected

For @mimamia who requested this story to be written.

Sherlock's POV

Sherlock straightened the blue scarf around his neck for what felt like the 300th time. He glared at his appearance. His curls refused to stay in order and although his attire was impeccable, he felt awkward. It was his first day of high school, and although he was a senior, he was practiclly sweating from nervousness. Sherlock had been homeschooled for his whole life. the only interaction that he experienced was with his best friend, billy the skull and occasionally, their house keeper, Mrs.Hudson. 

Sometimes, every few months, his older brother would call for a 5 minuet chat but that did not count in any way. he was starting to feel anger, why should he have to go and "socialize"? Apparently, his mother and father thought that isolation was 'not healthy' for a boy of his age. Sherlock obviously rejected the idea. he had never had company except for billy and he was perfectly fine! Why had his parents made such a ridiculous decision as to enroll him into a mundane school, Sherlock would probably never know. Their supposed reason was completely idiotic!

He arranged the glasses on his face and sighed, he really did not wish to meet new people. to be fair, sherlock was curious. He could conduct new experiments with the other students now. quickly sherlock ran to his filing cabinet. he had an entire shelf full with clean note books for new experiments. he grabbed the first composition book there and opened the little drawer on his table and pulled out a permanent marker.

Mentally, he knew that the notebook would soon be filled with scribbles so, In elegant cursive, sherlock titled this experiment notebook 'others'. at least one thing had to look professional. His experiment was titled this because, everyone else must be like him...right? The only difference would be their personalities. Sherlock could feel his excitement start. how did their different personalities affect their classwork? What techniques did they use to study? what was their favorite roo in their mind palace?

sherlock heard the sound of the cars engine turn on, so he grabbed his schoolbag and gave himself one more look in the mirror. He shrugged to himself, he was okay. Grabbing his 'others' notebook, sherlock shoved it in his bag and bounced down the stairs. He nodded to acknowledge Mrs.Husdon's presence. She nodded happily and gave sherlock his lunch bag.

finally outside, sherlock saw the slick black car that belonged to his brother. just before he reached the door, of course jarvis, his chauffeur opened the door for him. sherlock muttered a thank you and threw himself inside. He could hardly contain his happiness. He could shares his notes about human decomposition with his classmates during his science class. Sherlock knew that it was pretty basic stuff but he would then share the effects different poisons decomposed the body faster. That was sure to grab their attention. plus sherlock even brought his 'acidic' notebook to explain what different acids did to your body. Sherlock even brought pictures. One that sherlock found particularly interesting, was one acid. As soon as it came into contact with someones flesh, it would automatically start melting off. It was even able to disintegrate bones!

sherlock had been bouncing so much that his glasses skid off his face and landed to the other side of the seats. the car stopped and sherlock knew that he was there. He lunged across the seats, slammed on his glasses and whipped his head to the side to check out his school.

Sherlock felt his jaw drop to the floor. He saw Jarvis open the door for him, but at the same time he didn't see him. it was as if he was experiencing everything from someone else eyes. he tried to move but his body refused to cooperate. finally, with shaky legs and got out of the car. "Lord, is everything okay?" Sherlock didn't hear a word he said so he just nodded his head.

Then he was left alone in total chaos.


	2. Meeting John Watson

Sherlock stood paralyzed with confusion.

What.was.this?

This was not organized chaos like his room. This was uncontrollable disorganized and rowdy chaos.sherlock had never seen anything like it.

He leaned his head against a tree for few moments. Talk about sensory overload.

There were boys in leather jackets polishing motor cycles and boys with white t shirts flirting with boys and girls. Groups of girls in poodle skirts giggling and looking around. Boys and girls with plaid shirts and mismatched bow ties and some with oversized glasses who were studying although class hadn't started yet.

People were screaming, laughing, giggling, hollering at one another, even his mind could not comprehend all that was happening at once.

Numbly sherlock walked towards the front of the school where he knew the office was located.

The lady in the front gave him his schedule and sherlock walked around for a bit.

1- World history  
2- calculus - HONORS  
3- Health  
LUNCH  
4- Music - ADVANCED  
5- study hall  
6- Chemistry

He liked his schedule but he hated that chemistry was last. Sherlock noticed that many, if not all, of the boys were sizing him up likes animals did to their prey. Why were they doing that? Sherlock meant no harm to anyone. Although he was a great boxer and trained in martial arts, he never actually thought about hurting someone for no reason. What was the logic in that?

Sherlock practically ran past them. He tried to not observe people because their was so much, he couldn't handle all the useless information his senses were trying to cram into his brain. It was starting to make his head pound so he fast walked to his first classroom, keeping his eyes on his polished, black leather shoes.

He was a few minuets early so he proceeded to take out the supplies he would most likely need. When the bell rung sherlock had his notebook, pencil and pen out. Also, he had completed the bell work too. It was a basic question: what was your name. Not that hard. Yet when the teacher finally managed to get the kids attention, no one but sherlock and the girl sitting next to him had actually done the work.

Sherlock was lost, why were they so loud? He understood that some people were like that but they were all so unruly. Most of them were downright stupid which surprised sherlock. Shouldn't everyone be more advanced?

exasperated the teacher told them to introduce themselves to their shoulder partners. Since sherlock chose the corner desk at the front row, the only shoulder parter he had was a mousy looking girl was glasses that looked as if they were going to fall off their face almost all the time.

The girl shyly turned to look at him and whispered that her name was Molly hooper. After telling the girl, molly, his name, sherlock spun around and stared at he rest of his classmates. They all looked so...blank. They seemed to not think about anything else but the present. What must it be like it their funny little brains? Sherlock pondered. It must be so boring.

The rest of the class was spent trying to calm down the students and a rubric for the class was passed out to all his classmates. It was a sheet of paper explaining what would be expected of him and rules of the class.

After first period all he wanted was to go home. He felt drained, were all his classes going to be that...irritating? Exhausting? Perplexing? What word could he use to describe how he felt? The teens around him were so... Different. Out of all the scenarios he had played out in his head about how they would be... This... This never occurred to him.

Second period was better thankfully. sherlock was starting to guess that all his classes today would be about "getting to know each other better." 

The good thing was that his calculus class held quiet classmates. When they finished speaking their names, they all sat down in their respected seats. Sherlock could feel the awkwardness in the air but he didn't mind. It was better then the constant squabble his first period held.

When the bell rang sherlock felt relaxed, he could cope. He could get used to this.

Inside his health class, he looked around confused. There was only a handful of students in the class. The teacher smiled at him in amusement. "By this time, everyone has taken this class. Please umm... Sherlock, take a seat."

He obeyed and sat, blushing profusely for being called out. The teacher had a warm smile, his name, Sherlock soon learned, was Mr. Lestrade. He frowned. That didn't taste right in his mouth. He preferred Lestrade only.

\-----------------

At lunch, sherlock was bored out of his mind. His brain was running at 300 Miles per hour and the lack of information, movement and things to do were driving him crazy.

He wasn't particularly hungry, he ate 2 days ago, he was fine. He gave discreetly gave his lunch to a boy he deduced that was too poor to buy his own. The gratitude that flooded the boys eyes made sherlock feel both taken aback and at the same some gave him a good feeling. As if had done something right. He felt slightly embarrassed too. He didn't deserve the extreme gratitude that didn't need to be spoken to be understood. It was just a sandwich, sherlock would bring the boy something better next time.

Walking outside, he found a beautiful tree pretty far from the other students. Sherlock saw that there was a sort of small forest surrounding the schools. Standing next to the tree, sherlock fought huh urge to loose himself in there. He could just imagine the type of moss that grew in there. 

He took off his black trench coat. By now the sun was in the sky and It was warm enough that he didn't need the thick coat. The air felt wonderful without the extra layer of clothing. He was wearing his favorite shirt, a purple button up, so that made him even happier

Sherlock climbed the tree before he could have more inspiring thoughts. It was an apple tree, the apples were bright red and looked beautifully ripe as the sun rays bounced off of its skin. As soon as he was about to touch it, he heard someone marching towards the tree and sherlock quickly recoiled from the apple as if it were fire.

Quickly hiding in the foliage, sherlock looked down. Was someone coming to drag him off of the tree? He sincerely hoped not. He felt comfortable and safe in the tree.

It was just a boy, sherlock clamped a hand over his mouth to keep in his sigh of relief. The boy hadn't noticed him so, curiously, he observed him. The boy had blond hair with a military haircut. Sherlock climbed down slowly, keeping his eyes on the boy to make sure he hadn't noticed him. 

He was wearing a leather jacket over his white t shirt. His blue jeans, made his black leather booths stand out. Why were people dressed like that...-SNAP.

Sherlocks eyes widened and the boys head snapped up and his amazingly blue eyes pierce into his. Next thing he knew, he was falling off the tree. Luckily, he grabbed onto a tree branch which cut his wrist pretty badly, but Sherlock felt horror as a dozen apples came down on the dog and hitting him directly in the face.

Sherlock felt his arms weaken with pure terror and he finished falling to the floor. The boy was holding his nose which was flowing with blood. He looked slightly angered, but curiosity was winning his features and taking over.

"I haven't seen you here be-" and Sherlocks face was completely red. He crawled back until he hit a tree which began the forest, then stood up and sprinted inside.

He ran to the left where he had seen that the forest curved till it reached the entrance of the school. He could hear the boy trying to catch up to him. He was really fast, but sherlock wasn't covered in muscle so he was lighter, and lightness made you faster.

"Hey boy! I'm not. I'm not gonna hurt you! Come back! I swear!" The blond was gasping while he ran. Sherlock only ran faster. Seeing the entrance sherlock pushed himself out side and ran to the entrance. Everyone looked at him oddly. That was until they saw who was chasing him. As soon as he was about to open the front door 5 boys sporting leather jackets ran and grabbed sherlock by both arms. He struggled as he saw the boy running out the forest. 

Sherlock started panicking, this was too early, surly they wouldn't hurt him on the first day? He could only hope. They boys were laughing about "teaching him a lesson" but they stopped when they saw that the boy was bleeding. Suddenly the boys stopped and gripped Sherlocks arms to the point in pain.

He would go down with dignity. He refused to whimper, he could actually since the brutes incompetence.

Suddenly he knew what to do, he went completely limp in the boys arms. The boys kept his eyes in him and looked at him warily, but they loosened their grip a bit.

The blond jogged over and when he was close enough he yelled "knock it off! Leave him alone!" The boys looked at one another confused "but john..." That was his chance.

Just as he had been taught by his self defense teachers. Sherlock jabbed two fingers into a special spot under the boys armpit. The boy looked both hurt and confused but he let him go. As soon as the other boy turned to look at him, sherlock did something ridiculous. He punched the boy right in the nose and ran off again. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. It was a mantra repeating in his head over and over again as he ran down the hallway with the 5 brutes running behind him besides the so called john. 

Sherlock prayed that his plan would work. He took a sharp right and ran into the classroom quickly locking it behind him. He back up into a desk and fell backwards. Just managing to catch himself with his hands. It still hurt but he was more worried the lock wouldn't hold.

The boys looked in from the window, their faces full with fury. But they turned around and started listening to something one of them was saying. Judging by the calm, soothing yet deep voice, sherlock knew it was john.

In less than a minuet, the boys were gone. Sherlock blew out a sigh in relief, that was until he heard someone clear his throat. Sherlocks head whipped around. For a second he had forgotten which class he had run into.

Lestrade stared at him in a mixture of confusion, pride and he looked pleased with him. He patted the seat and front of him and gave him a look that obviously meant that he wanted an explanation. Sherlock dropped himself into the chair and proceeded to tell him why the brutes were chasing him. Lestrade gave him his full attention, he quietly put away his lasagna and never inturrupted him once. 

It was official. Sherlocks favorite teacher was Lestrade.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Sherlock arrived late to class because of Lestrade, but after finally containing his laughter he slapped sherlock on the back and handed him a pass. Sherlock couldn't stop blushing, he was pleased that Lestrade found his tale amusing instead of lecturing his ears off. 

Sherlock had missed both his music class and study hall. How had he still managed to get late to class still surprised him. He had had a pleasant time talking to the teacher. In fact, those two hours seemed like half an hour to him.

Because he was late, sherlock would have to work alone on his lab. He didn't mind, he preferred being alone. A partner would only mess him up. 

The teacher, Mr. lightwood, thought that education shouldn't be put off, so he had an easy lab for them, obviously review from last year. The lab was so easy that at fist sherlock thought it was some ridiculous joke. He had learned this stuff when he was in elementary!

10 minuets after his arrival someone else entered. Sherlock hardly noticed. He was too focused on the vast array of chemicals and elements that surrounded him. It was almost as if he were at his lab back home. Except his lab was waaay better. 

The almost ignored the new arrival except mr. Lightwood walked over to him and introduced him to a certain 'watson'. He felt irritated. Couldn't he see that he was admiring his surroundings?

Sherlock stopped short when he saw the blue eyes boring into his. He gulped and felt his face pale. He heard nothing that the teacher said, but as soon as he turned around sherlock started his experiment. He could feel the boys eyes staring at him, Sherlock could feel his face heat up, even his ears felt hot. His hands were shaking so much and sherlock was not paying much attention that he didn't notice until it was too late.

He had placed a dangerously large chunk of pure potassium into his beaker of water. Sherlock heard his scream as if it were from another person. "DUCK!" He roared to the people around him, then he tackled john to the floor.

A second later, the beaker exploded and billions of tiny shards rained over them. Sherlock had his eyes squeezed shut, and when he opened them he scooted back so fast that he had shards of glass embedded into his palms. He had, had john Watson pinned under him. Even though it was only for a few seconds Sherlock started blushing again. The boy started chuckling till he saw Sherlocks hands as he was lifting himself up.

The classroom was dead silent. He could feel the stares of the other children burning into his skull.

The boy probably that sherlock was trying to kill him. He could feel tears of embarrassment burn his eyes. There were still about 20 minuets for school to end but sherlock slung his back over his shoulder and ran out of class. He had done more running today then he had done in weeks.

He sat in the front steps in misery. He contemplated calling mycroft to pick him up earlier but he knew that his tedious brother would ask questions and he was certainty not in the mood.

Sighing Sherlock walked back inside and walked into the bathroom. He took out some tweezers (he had messed up labs many, many,many times) and slowly picked the glass out of his palms. He gritted his teeth, he did not want to sound weaker than he already felt.

When done he washed his hands and applied a thin layer of ointment and walked back outside. There was still a seconds left so sherlock jogged to the drive bay where he waited for Jarvis to come and pick him up. Promptly at 3:15 PM the older man arrived and smiled at sherlock. He offered him a forced smile and jumped inside. He just wanted to go home.

\----------

Sherlock decided that today would be his eating day. Since he couldn't focus on anything else he grabbed some bread, toasted it up and put some strawberry jam on it.but after the first slice he felt faint. He was feeling too anxious. It was okay, he only need enough food to survive, his body was simply transport.

He then took a cold shower to try to calm his mind but it didn't work. He lay in bed and replayed the memories carefully. He tried to see what he could've done differently to avoid the mess.

He felt his hands start to sweat and get clammy, sherlock curled in himself, he knew what was about to happen. His mind has been immobile too long. He withered in his bed, his sweat covered body twisting in his sheets.

His mind was going so fast. Too fast. It hurt. Sherlock started whimpering, he knew no one was home except Jarvis and he was in the garage. Mrs. Hudson left when the sun started setting.

The pain was becoming unbearable. Sherlock groaned, Why wouldn't it stop? Gasping sherlock ran and opened up his window. As soon as he did he threw up all the contents in his stomach, which wasn't much to begin with. Feeling horrible, sherlock walked over to the bathroom, leaning on the wall for support. His legs felt wobbly and weak, but he refused to give in to his body's protests. Looking at himself in the mirror sherlock was repulsed.

He quickly wet his face with cold water and washed his mouth. Then he waited 10 minuets before brushing his teeth. Dragging himself back to the room sherlock knew it would he would not sleep tonight. He almost never could. The family doctor said he had 'insomnia' but sherlock knew that his brain going to overdrive was the cause for his unrest. 

His mind never stopped working, he needed to keep his mind stimulated. Occupied. He opened his violin case and took out his beautiful instrument. He lightly caressed it before beginning a simple song. Twinkle, twinkle. It was always his warm up song when he was beginning to learn and it stuck with him.

He played many music throughout the night, until dawn and the sunrise. Then finally,finally he was able to get a few hours of blissful ignorance. Sleep was he only time he could actually feel peace. It was wonderful.


	3. Awkward "first" meeting

Sherlock woke up two hours later with his head hung over the side of the bed. The blood that had accumulated in his head was making it hurt, so groaning, he rolled over till he fell off the bed. When hit the ground with a dull thud Sherlock lay there for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of the cool floor. Sherlock wiped the sweat off his face. He had had a nightmare but he couldn't remember what it was about. The cool sweat on his body was starting to annoy him, so groggily, he stood up and headed towards the shower.

Tuning on the shower to its hottest setting, Sherlock locked the door and slumped down on the ground. He had roughly two hours till he had to leave to school. As the hot fog starting dancing around the room Sherlock slowing started shrugging off his clothes, he was not in the mood to do anything. He sincerely did not wish to return to school, and he felt as if he took long enough, mycroft would call mummy to tell Jarvis to let him stay home. He had no idea how he would survive all year. He could hardly survive a day!

Not being able to free a button from its hole Sherlock pulled at the shirt and saw the white button go flying and land on the counter top. He stared sadly at his wrinkled shirt, the purple looking bright against the polished white tiles that occupied the bathroom floor. Sighing, Sherlock stood up and placed his shirt on top of the button so he could somehow find out how to fix it.

Throwing the rest of his clothes on the floor he jumped in the shower and started dreading the moment when he would have to go back to school. As he slowly lathered the shampoo into his hair Sherlock thought about john. Why had the boy chased him if not to harm him? Clearly him and his friends had more muscle than brains, but then again, Sherlock had only looked at john for a second before he plummeted to the floor and started running. And even that wasn't enough time for him to look to deep into the boy.

Obviously whoever this john Watson was, he was fairly important; as soon as he told hem to stop the pressure in his arm had almost stopped completely and Sherlock knew that the only reason they had still been holding onto them because they were confused.

As suds started streaming down his face, Sherlock got under the shower head and finished his task quickly but efficiently. The lavender helped calm his never ending thought process, so Sherlock probably reeked of the Lilac colored flower. His shampoo, conditioner, and even body wash smelled of it. He didn't mind it much, it help him and he didn't necessarily care what others thought of him.

Toweling himself off, Sherlock wrapped the towel around himself and headed back to his room to change.

\------------------------–------------

Sitting on the rich leather seats in mycroft's car, he thought about how everyone dressed. Why specific group wear the same clothing. So far he had not seen one person who wore something original. It was as if someone had dressed in an outfit and made clones out of them. Were was there class? Most of them seemed as if they had rolled out of bed, grabbed their "uniform" and headed to school.

Walking in the hallways, he noticed that almost no one was inside. From the passing windows he could see what he was sure was about 99% of the schools population outside.sherlock shook his head in confusion at the ought and kept exploring the school. Since he had spent his music class with Lestrade, Sherlock had no idea where his actual class was.

Finally finding classroom 221B was a relief. He timidly stepped inside to present himself to the teacher and to apologize for missing out on his class. The class was empty and bare, save for he few desks that littered the front of the room.

He was about to walk out when he saw the violin cases powdered with dirt that lay Carelessly in the back of the room.

Curiosity and excitement Filled Sherlocks brain as he walked towards them. Brushing one clean, he opened it to reveal a breath taking black violin. He gaped at it and admired it and when he touched it, he blushed. He felt as if wasn't worn enough to touch it and that he would be reprimanded because of it.

Timidly looking around and his face and ears steadily turning a brighter shade of Crimson, Sherlock picked up the violin with such gentleness most people would've thought he was holding an infant.

He began by plucking the stings, it was perfectly tuned and the music that it was emitting was magical. Happily Sherlock stood up and walked towards the first chair he saw and sat on the back of the chair.

Closing his eyes and forcing his mind to focus solely on the music Sherlock began once again with twinkle, twinkle. Then he tried and successfully preformed midnight sonata, and his favorites from Beethoven. Humming with glee and slightly bouncing on the chair Sherlocks eyes snapped open when he heard wild clapping. 

Standing a few yards away was john Watson standing in the shadows like a beast ready to pounce. He saw the goofy grin on johns face but he was confused as he saw that his pupils were slightly dilated. Was he sick or something? Johns brilliantly colored eyes were once again staring intently into his and it turned him into a nervous wreck. All of this had passed through his mind before his startled body had thrown him back causing him to hit the floor with a sickening thud. 

The breath knocked out of him he laid on the floor, thankful that the Violin and bow had remained on the chair. In a matter of second john was lifting him up and smiling at him again. "You know, if you wanted my attention, you could just say hi, there's no need for all of this...falling" john whispered as a Mischievous look started forming in his eyes. As he stepped even closer to Sherlock he tiptoed to reach to his ear and whispered even more softly "but then again, damsel in distress might be a good look on you" Sherlock shivered and he mentally scolded his body for its unnatural reactions towards the boy.

Suddenly angered Sherlock took several steps back which left a large gap between them, considering that Sherlock had long legs. "I am no damsel in distress, I could take you down in seconds if I wanted to, Johnny boy" he glared at him. How dare this boy think of him pathetic and weak? And to think that he had felt bad yesterday!he should've just let the boy take his chances with the beaker, who cares if he had saved him from those boys. He could've token care of them himself.

John looked at him in amuse to and perched himself on the chair that he had previously been on. He stroked his chin as if in deep thought. "Hm... Johnny boy, it think I like the sous of that Sherly" Sherlock flushed and angrily pushed up his glasses, causing john to stifle a laugh. "Don't ever call me that again. Now if you'll excuse me I have to ask for a schedule change."

As if pulled by strings, johns face automatically fell and he jumped off if his chair stopping Sherlocks strides towards the door. Gently placing a hand on his chest john looked up into Sherlocks eyes. He cursed inwardly as he felt his face heaten, but he refused to be the one to break eye contact. "I'm sorry, okay? Im sorry. Here, we got off the wrong hand. What with the chasing and punching.... Yeah. Well, I honestly was not mad at you yesterday, I knew it was accident. Anderson was fairly mad since you broke his nose and Sebastian is sulking because you bruised his underarms pretty badly. The only reason they grabbed you was because they thought you had hurt me or so,etching ridiculous like that. Anyways... Let's just star over again... Please?" John took in a deep breath and stood up straighter "hullo, my name is john Watson." Then he stuck out his hand stiffly. Confused, yet amused slowly griped johns hand and shook twice. 

Looking at john to see if he had done it right, Sherlock was alarmed yet somehow slightly pleased. He had not had physical contact since.. Well he couldn't remember. It was interesting to see how warm other people were, since he was always so cold. 

Looking down at John once again, his horrible blush had turned into a faint pink. Timidly reaching to push up his glasses Sherlock muttered "hello, I'm Sherlock Holmes"


End file.
